Chapter 5: Class President
The bell rang, signaling the end of class, but the classroom remained unusually quiet. The drowsiness of early morning had suppressed the usual noisy energy of break time. Many students who still hadn't gotten enough sleep slumped back down onto their desks.
"Julian." The girl in front tapped the boy who had just laid his head down and placed a form on his desk. She looked at him and asked, "This is the sign-up sheet for our class basketball game. We don't have enough volunteers. Are you interested?"
Julian lifted his head and met a pair of clear, bright eyes. The girl was very pretty—fair skin with a soft pink glow, delicate features, long lashes, and slightly upturned eyes. Her shoulder-length black hair was tied into a neat ponytail, radiating youthful vitality.
Hannah Reeves, class president of the senior class. She was lively and cheerful, eloquent, emotionally intelligent, responsible, attractive, and consistently ranked near the top academically. She was every teacher's ideal "perfect student."
Her popularity naturally surpassed even that of Margaret from the next class.
This bright example of someone living firmly in the light had a cheerful personality shaped by a stable family background. Unlike Julian's more guarded nature, she seemed untouched by darkness—clean, vibrant, and full of life.
Julian glanced at the list. The final spot was still blank. "I don't mind. If you're short on people, I can fill in. Just don't expect much—I'm not that skilled."
"It's okay. It's only a friendly match. No one will give you a hard time if you play poorly."
"Alright, count me in then." Julian agreed, took the pen, wrote his name, and slid the form back.
"Also, did you finish the French homework for this weekend? If not, just beg nicely and I'll let you copy mine." Hannah smiled slyly, waving her own workbook. As the row leader, she was in charge of collecting assignments for the subject representative.
Julian pulled his notebook from his bag and handed it over with a slightly proud expression. "No need. I actually finished it this time."
"Wow, that's surprising." Hannah took the notebook and flipped through it. The previously blank spaces were now filled with neat writing. "Didn't you say you refused to let French ruin your weekends? What changed?"
"Someone tutored me over the weekend, so I got it done while I was at it."
"Tutored? By one of the teachers?"
Julian slumped back onto his desk lazily and glanced sideways at her. "No. It was… a girl."
He deliberately avoided saying Margaret's name. Their relationship was clear and innocent. Mentioning it might spark unnecessary rumors and cause trouble for her.
"Oh. A girl." The previously enthusiastic Hannah suddenly lost interest. She collected the workbook, pouted slightly, turned around, and stopped asking questions.
Her fair neck and black ponytail remained in Julian's line of sight. Her back was slender and straight.
He was about to close his eyes to catch some sleep when he glanced out the window.
Margaret and another girl happened to be walking past. Her gaze swept coldly into the classroom. The usual gentle, spring-like warmth was gone, replaced by a sharp, icy look he had never seen before. It sent a chill straight through him.
She withdrew her eyes, and just as quickly, the coldness vanished. Her lovely profile once again carried that comforting, gentle smile as she continued chatting with the girl beside her.
Julian couldn't make sense of it and dismissed it as his imagination. He found a comfortable position and emptied his mind.
His seat was against the wall, directly facing the mottled glass window.
A thin layer of white fog had formed on the glass. Outside, the old trees stood bare, with only a few withered yellow leaves clinging to the dry branches, trembling in the cold wind, threatening to be torn away at any moment.
The grass was covered in a thin layer of frost. All signs of life seemed buried beneath the unusual chill, as though true winter had already arrived.
The calm lasted until just before the next class. His desk mate Vincet Torres returned from playing outside, drenched in sweat and radiating heat.
Wiping his face with tissues and tossing the damp wads onto the desk, Vincet caught his breath and teased, "Why aren't you out playing ball? You're hiding in here like an old man. Planning to hibernate or something?"
"I'm not interested. I don't really like sports."
Class was about to start. Julian stretched and sat up properly, waiting for his eyes to focus. "Every time I played, you guys basically dragged me onto the court."
"But you signed up for the basketball game next week. Shouldn't you practice a bit so you can actually show off?"
"How much can I improve in just a few days? I'm not tall, and my skills are average. Nothing worth showing off."
"No no no. Before it was just us messing around. This time it's an official school event. There'll definitely be a crowd watching."
Vincet leaned closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Think about it—with that face of yours, as long as you're decent on the court, if you manage to score even one good basket and get some spotlight, you'll have everyone's attention. You might win over quite a few girls. Who knows, maybe even Mar—"
A pen dropped to the floor with a clatter, cutting Vincet off. Both boys instinctively looked over. Hannah was bending down to pick it up. Her pretty profile flashed before them.
Her smooth black hair fell forward, partially covering her face. Hannah straightened up, tucked the strands behind her ear, and gave the two of them an expressionless glance. Without saying a word, she turned back to her work.
The small interruption didn't deter Vincet. He continued his persuasion. "So? We can create some chances for you. Who knows—you might even be able to win over Margaret."
"I already told you there's nothing between me and Margaret," Julian replied calmly while twirling his pen. Unlike most boys who would get excited, he sounded completely relaxed and indifferent.
"That's right now. Once you show your skills and charm, the school beauty might suddenly notice you. The great Julian Hayes is quite the catch, after all."
It sounded tempting. Setting aside her status as the most beautiful girl in school, earning the affection of someone like Margaret would satisfy any guy's ego. It would stir the hearts of most teenage boys.
But Julian was different. He lived humbly, with all his focus on work and studying. He needed to survive the present and build a better future. He had no energy left for such matters.
"Forget it. I don't have those kinds of thoughts. Margaret herself said she's not interested in that right now."
"Fine, fine. You're too noble for this world. I give up."
Vincet gave up sulkily, tossed the crumpled tissues aside, and opened his textbook for the upcoming class.
The third period was math, taught by their homeroom teacher. A woman in her fifties with a dry voice and deep wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, carrying the typical stern aura of age.
She was strict and old-fashioned about education and couldn't tolerate young people wasting their youth. During free periods, she often patrolled past the windows, catching many students in the act. Behind her back, the students had nicknamed her the Old Witch.
Julian had been caught several times and called into her office. Perhaps because she knew about his situation, the teacher had occasionally softened and allowed him to nap during morning reading, while still urging him to study hard.
Study hard—he knew he had to. Forced to face the burdens of life early, that strong determination pushed him toward brighter days. Not for grand ambitions, but simply to live better.
Still, Julian had to admit his subjects were severely unbalanced. His math and science grades were excellent, but French was only average—barely above failing.
He recalled Margaret's tutoring session last weekend. She was actually very good at teaching. The grammar points that had tormented him for days finally made sense after her explanation.
Maybe… he should ask her for help again sometime?